pas de deux
by zavira
Summary: he knew being a police officer was no easy job. but nothing could have prepared him for this. (a buddy cop!au, wherein ned is the naive newbie, and peter is the seasoned veteran)


"Officer Parker," Lieutenant Stark says. There's a grim expression on his face; Peter can tell this is not going to be an easy day. "You're just in time."

Peter nods, eternally grateful that Stark doesn't know how dangerously close he was to being late this morning

"There's been a murder," he continues, slapping a dishearteningly thin case file onto the desk. "And the perp was good. Hardly a trace of him found at the crime scene. That being said, there were some … odd recurrences. We think it bears a connection to the murder of Ms. Allen from last week. Which means—"

Peter gives a low whistle. "Looks like we have a serial killer on our hands."

Stark's mouth flips into a frown — probably because Peter cut him off, not that it's a big deal — before he levels Peter with a look.

"I can't have you alone on this case, Parker," he says."I'm sure you know that, given the magnitude of all this."

Peter bites back his protests — after the disastrous robbery investigation with Officer Flash, he prefers to work alone — as Stark finishes. "You'll be with Officer Ned Leeds."

 _Leeds._

Peter's never met him before, though he's heard things. Nothing bad, but that doesn't stop him from returning Leeds' overenthusiastic smile with a mere glance as he walks into the room. "Peter Parker, right?" he says.

Peter nods.

"I'm Ned. Ned Leeds."

"I'll leave you to it," Stark says, nodding once more before exiting the room.

As soon as he's gone, Ned picks up the file, eyes wide. "A serial killer," he breathes. "So, uh, any leads?"

Peter bites back a laugh, clearing his throat and shaking his head. "Nothing solid. This killer's got a distinct pattern to him, though. If we look at Elizabeth Allen's case from a week ago …"

He trails off, watching Ned flip through the file. "There really isn't much, is there?"

"Nope," Peter replies, heaving out a sigh. "Both happened on this same street corner though, if that counts for anything." He points to the map, at the street corner in question.

It's fairly nondescript, lined with a few shops and cafes and —

"Oh, yeah, that's where those apartments are," Ned says, placing a finger over one of the buildings. "Maybe he's hiding out there. We should definitely stake it out." There's an animated tone to his voice, and his eyes are bright.

"They're just apartments, Ned. Our guy could just … like the coffee there, or something," Peter replies.

" _Or._ He could be at those very apartments right now."

"Alright, alright, we'll check the place out," Peter laments, sliding the map back into the file.

As Ned beams, he doesn't know whether to roll his eyes — or smile back.

* * *

They've been sitting here for an hour, and all they've seen is a woman pushing her stroller past, followed by a group of teenagers talking and laughing as they pick up drinks from the cafe and keep walking.

The apartment complex is decidedly empty.

"I say we go in," Ned says, reaching for the door.

"We can't just walk in without a plan," Peter replies, shaking his head. "Besides, we've got no reason to go inside. I mean, all we've seen so far from the place is … well, nothing."

"That's because he _knows_ , Parker," Ned insists. "We've got to catch him off-guard."

"Let's consult the case file, see where we should head next," Peter replies, refastening is seat belt.

"Are you kidding? We're in the right place, I can tell." Ned opens the door, stepping outside. Adjusting his badge in a rather overzealous manner, he turns to Peter and says, "Wish me luck, I'm going in."

Peter waits for him to come to his senses and get back into the car.

As Ned strolls into the apartment building, he shakes his head before following.

Well, at least he's not Flash.

* * *

 _"Open up!"_

Ned turns to Peter with a smile. "This is the one."

He's said that about every apartment — the one with no less than four children, screaming and laughing, the one with the sweet old lady who'd offered them some lunch, which they'd politely declined, and the one with the grizzled old man who told them to stay away before moving his wheelchair back towards the window — yet here they are, still looking.

They wait.

Peter counts to ten.

"I don't think anyone's home."

"I hear footsteps. Shh." Ned presses a finger to Peter's lips, which he quickly bats away. He leans against the door, listening intently. As he does so, his elbow bumps against the door handle.

Peter reaches out a hand to steady him as the door swings wide open, and Ned nearly loses his balance.

There's a trail of something red on the floor, drops of it leading towards an open window.

"Oh my god," Peter breathes.

"That's blood, that's blood, Peter, that's blood."

They sprint towards the window — just in time to see a hooded figure jump out. The man tucks into a roll as he lands on the sidewalk.

He turns around, and Peter sees the glint of a gun in his hands. "Ned get down!"

The man fires off one bullet. Peter ducks just in time.

By the time he's back to his senses, the man is already long gone.

There's a slight look of fear in Ned's eyes, but his voice is all smooth confidence as he says, "see? I told you."

They both run for the car.


End file.
